


Ignite

by AlphaStarr



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Matchmaking, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:04:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaStarr/pseuds/AlphaStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where SBurb and its time machinations don’t exist, Lil Hal secretly schemes (with the help of Jane and Roxy) to get his creator Dirk together with long-time best bro Jake. Naturally, they consistently fall into the 5% failure portion of his 95% effective plans… and Jake’s sexy glasses are distracting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Matchmaker, Matchmaker

“A single man in possession of great fortune must be in want of a lover,” Jane Austen once said—or something like that, anyways.

Autoresponder “Lil Hal” Strider would have added, “And there is no greater fortune than to be the inventor of a pair of incredibly swag, self-aware sentient shades. You need information? The internet’s my bitch; I’ll have the dirt in two minutes, tops. You need calculations run? Way ahead of you, bro, I already predicted that you’d need those numbers crunched. You’re one fucking lucky man, Dirk Strider. Get a boyfriend already, dammit.”

Hal’s flesh counterpart was the bane of his existence these days. The man was one of the lead robotics experts of Zahhak Industries at the age of twenty-nine, the prodigal son of the technology industry, yet for some reason, he’d remained stolidly single for the last fifteen years, not even bothering to search out other people. The last person he’d dated with any degree of seriousness was Roxy Lalonde (who was still basically his best friend), and that had been back when he was fourteen and actually still thought he was heterosexual. What a fucking laugh. While Dirk had never been one to label himself as one thing or the other, it was abundantly clear to Hal that he was about as straight as a circle. Fortunately, Dirk had come to his senses eventually and Roxy wasn’t the worst girl he could have dated before realizing he was not attracted to females, so all was well.

Plus, it wasn’t like he had some sort of preternatural aversion to dating. Hal knew (having been on the other Strider’s face for most of this) that Dirk had experienced several dates where they went out for an evening, had a one-night stand, and never saw each other again, in spite of the other party’s attempts to stay in contact—but that was a thing Hal could possibly understand.

Despite being single in name, Hal knew that Dirk’s heart was taken.

He’d run all the calculations (all of them). Match dot com had nothing on his finely processed compatibility algorithms. eHarmony would die of shame if only it could catch a glimpse of Hal’s numbers. He was also 97% certain OkCupid and Christian Mingle would collapse against each other sobbing at the beauty of Hal’s affinity equations.

And Dirk’s compatibility with a certain Jake English was a whopping 92.61%.

If you would allow Lil Hal to explain what those numbers meant, you would find out that in approximately 9261 of every 10000 alternate universes, the theoretical relationship between Dirk Strider and his longtime best bro would be successful, where success was measured by the quotient of happiness on a scale from one to 100 and e to the integral of the equation tracking dokis over time.

Did you read that correctly? The actual portion of universes of success was _over 9000_.

There was no fucking way Lil Hal was going to let this go. In 7.39% of the existing parallel universes, the relationship between Dirk and Jake may have crashed and burned, but that was what Lil Hal was here for: to make sure it happened and succeeded in this one. They were practically made for each other, if only they could see what was right in front of their faces. They were blatantly and obviously already in love with each other. Their relationship was a fire waiting to happen. A huge fucking “CAUTION: FLAMMABLE OBJECT” warning sign.

All Hal had to do was ignite it.


	2. Animal Planet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hal observes the Strider in his natural habitat, and how he interacts with the English. He decides to interfere.

Let it be said that Lil Hal’s hypothesis was in no way unfounded. One merely had to watch the Dirk Strider in his natural habitat to deduce that he had feelings for Jake English, and vice versa. It was like motherfucking Animal Planet up in this biznitch.

Take, for example, last Saturday. The Dirk Strider, in a manner pretty typical to the entire Strider genus, had been struck with a bout of late-night technological inspiration at 2:37 AM and got out of bed to tinker with some work he’d brought home with him. This, of course, led to the variety of oversleeping the next day that can only be done on weekends. Hal knew his human had a habit of sleeping in until past eleven AM approximately one in two randomly selected Saturdays, a phenomenon likely caused by staying up until almost dawn on Friday nights. It seemed that this Saturday would be one of those lie-in mornings.

Except for Jake fucking English.

Now, English knew Dirk’s sleeping habits at least as well as Lil Hal did (a fact that already spoke volumes about their closeness in addition to his apparent observation of the Strider’s behavior), and somewhere in that derpy-ass brain of his, he’d decided that today would be an absolutely fabulous day to come to Dirk’s house and make breakfast for him like some sort of gun-toting, bucktooth-grinned housewife to whom Dirk could shout “Taidama!” when returning home after a long day’s work.

There were three things that Hal could deduce from Jake’s impromptu visit to Dirk’s home that morning:

One, whose idea was it to give English the spare key? That’s right, Dirk fucking Strider’s. No, don’t give it to Roxy, your best and most trustworthy friend since middle school. Don’t even give it to Jane, who lives on the same goddamn street as you and can let you in if you somehow lose yours. Give it to Jake English, who inhabits an apartment on the other side of town. Not like Jake is ever at his apartment, anyways, Hal thinks. He may as well move in with Dirk.

Two, Jake also decided to stop by and do something nice for his friend. This wouldn’t have been suspicious had it been, for example, Jake’s best friend/ex-girlfriend Jane who’d come over to cook for her friend. She did that sort of thing all the time. But this was Jake English, the man who managed to forget his girlfriend’s birthday two years in a row (hence the break-up). Not to call him insensitive or nothin’, but this was a guy for whom thinking of other people did not come to naturally. What did you expect from him? He’d grown up in the middle of nowhere. But apparently, he’d managed to stop thinking about movies and guns and 1920s-era slang long enough to think, “Hmmm, wouldn’t it be nice to have breakfast with Strider like some scene out of an extremely domestic romance film?” And then he’d actually done it.

Three, Jake English couldn’t fucking cook. Like, holy shit, give that guy a medal for being the foremost in utter ineptitude when it came to doing anything more complicated than heating a can of beans over a fire or some Boy Scouts shit like that. Microwaves hated the guy, and were prone to short-circuiting as soon as he pressed a button. Stoves were even worse—Hal was 76.29% certain that, somewhere, there was a monster hunter still pursuing the results of the last time Jake tried to make spaghetti.

The lattermost point was the reason why, at 9:23 AM on Saturday morning, Dirk Strider woke up to the smell of smoke and the blaring beeps of his fire alarm.

Instantly snapping awake, Strider grabbed the AR from his bedside table, pulled a fire extinguisher from beneath his desk, and ran into the kitchen, spraying flame retardant onto the ceiling-high blaze.

“It looks like,” Dirk said, sliding his shades over his eyes. “You need to _cool_ it in here.”

Hal accessed the internet to play a loud voice clip of “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAH!”

He was positive Dirk would have high-fived him, had Hal actually possessed hands with which to high-five.

“Er… yeah,” Jake bit his lip and looked sheepishly at Dirk. “Quite sorry about that, ol’ chum. I just wanted to surprise you.”

Hal’s ocular receptors would have rolled at this, were they able to. It was clear to anyone with any sense of perception whatsoever that Jake was engaging in the age-old art of unconscious flirting. Just look at the sexy way he was biting his lip. The embarrassed blush that resulted from failing yet another cooking attempt. That shy peer from over the edge of his very attractive, pancake-batter-splattered glasses. Hal would have given anything to lick the batter off those glasses. Actually, anything that involved licking and Jake’s incredibly sexy spectacles was a good idea in his book. Their messy demeanor made them look as thoroughly debauched as a pair of glasses could look. Hal would have loved to be on top of Jake’s face right now, his temple tips resting against the temple tips of Jake’s glasses, smearing himself with the pancake batter as he moved over that rectangular frame…

But he digressed; the point was that Jake was flirting with Dirk, even if he didn’t know it yet. Hal’s own unquenchable attraction to Jake’s glasses would have to wait until after they got together. Such was the curse of being a pair of specs; your owner’s needs came before your own. That was just how things were for glasses.

“You surprised me, all right,” Dirk replied, drawing Hal from his reverie. “It’s not every day a man wakes up to his kitchen on fire.”

 Jake flushed even darker at that. He spluttered, “W-well, it’s your consarned stove’s fault, anyways! Dadblasted thing wouldn’t turn on. Next thing I know, I’ve turned around to get something to fix it with and then suddenly the whole pan of oil was on fire! I tried to pour water on it, but it just got worse! I’m telling you, Strider, it’s evil!”

Dirk looked at him for a few seconds, and then put his hand on Jake’s shoulder. He chuckled, “I’m pretty sure my stove is fine. Finer than the point of a needle. It could put grains of sand to shame with the level of fine we’ve got on this stove. But you know, if you wanted breakfast, you should have just gotten me awake. There’s a café on Main Street that, according to Dave, is sufficiently ironic for a Strider to be seen there. Just let me put on clothes and take a shower and I’ll take you.”

Hal noticed that Dirk’s hand never left Jake’s shoulder throughout the whole exchange. Wow. Way to spend forever touching the guy you like, Strider. Because that’s totally subtle. Not to mention, he’d somehow managed to ask Jake on a date without it actually being a date.

“Well, I suppose we could do that,” Jake smiled brilliantly at his compatriot. It was actually so radiant that Hal internally cringed. Yep, this guy _definitely_ liked Dirk. “I’ll try to get the kitchen in tip-top shape while you get yourself an ablution!”

Dirk looked at the kitchen stove, which was covered in white foam and slightly smoking still, then he looked at the batter dripping from Jake’s clothes, “How about you just get the counters clean and then borrow a change of clothes from me? Y’know, since my stove is _evil_ and all.”

Jake playfully shoved Dirk away, “Oh, hush, you!”

Dirk pantomimed zipping his lips, and then turned away to head towards the bathroom for a shower. Hal could see from around Dirk’s head Jake’s eyes on Dirk’s boxer-clad ass as he retreated. Congratulations, Captain Obvious.

After half an hour of showering and cleaning, followed by a few minutes of styling and drying his hair, Dirk stood in his room, getting dressed in his usual clothes, a wifebeater with the image of a hat on it, some black jeans, and a pair of converses. He rummaged in his drawers for a little bit before coming back up with a t-shirt bearing the same orange insignia he usually wore and managed to dig up a pair of shorts Jake had left there the last time he came over. None of Dirk’s pants, which were mostly slacks and skinny jeans, would have fit Jake anyways. That man had the muscled legs of a god.

There was a knock on the door of Dirk’s bedroom, “Strider, my good fellow! Are you appropriately clad?”

“Yeah, I’m decent,” Dirk pulled the door open and leaned on the frame, holding out the clothes he’d selected for Jake. “Get a shower, wash all that flour out of your hair. You know where the towels are.”

_You know where the towels are._ Had Hal not been a machine, he would have had to stifle a snort. That shower was Dirk’s sanctuary. Anyone who knew anything about Dirk (a set of people that definitely included Jake English) would have to know that he didn’t let just anyone use his shower. After letting Jake use his shower so many fucking times that he actually knew where the towels were in the garbled mess of Dirk’s bathroom, it was a miracle the oblivious idiot hadn’t caught on to Dirk’s affections for him.

“Will do!” Jake eagerly saluted him, took the offered vestments, and scurried off to bathe while Dirk got a move on cleaning the rest of the kitchen.

Once the scorched pan found its way into his pile of undone dishes and the stove matched the counters Jake had just cleaned, English was emerging from Dirk’s bathroom, ruffling his wet, no-longer-dirty dark hair with a bright orange towel. Dirk’s shirt hung loosely around Jake’s shoulders, the extra-long article of clothing that covered Dirk’s excess height actually encompassing Jake’s hips.

“Shall we get a move on?” Jake queried.

“Yeah,” Dirk replied, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. “Just let me grab my wallet and we’ll head out.”

“Now, Mr. Strider,” Jake walked up to him and jabbed a pointy finger into Dirk’s broad chest. “You didn’t expect me to just light your kitchen ablaze and not attempt to make up for it, did you? It would be right ungentlemanly to allow you to pay for anything after imposing on you!”

“Oh well,” Dirk smirked, suddenly running for his room. “You’ll just have to be an ungentleman, then.”

“STRIDER!” Jake exclaimed, chasing after him hopelessly. “Get back here, you dickprince!”

Dirk dashed into his bedroom and fumbled around for his wallet. He ran into the adjoining bathroom (still fogged up from Jake’s shower) and out the other door into the hallway of his home. Jake ran straight up the stairs in pursuit, the short flight doing nothing to deter him. Dirk’s shoes slid on the hardwood flooring as he sharply turned towards the back stairs, which led into the door just outside the mud room. Strider slid his wallet into his back pocket just as Jake ran halfway down the stairs and jumped on Dirk just as the taller man turned around to catch him.

God, thought Hal, they acted just like children sometimes.

In a bizarre cross between a grapple and a hug, Jake began wriggling around in Dirk’s arms, fingers struggling towards Dirk’s plush derriere, “Put that back, I say! Nobody makes an ungentleman of Jake English!”

“Nope,” Dirk actually broke out into a full-on smile. Now, it wasn’t an everyday thing, watching Dirk Strider smile so damn hard his cheeks hurt and he showed a full mouthful of teeth. Hal would even go as far as to say this was a smile reserved _especially for Jake_. That kid could get a rock to grin.

Hal could have gone on to describe their breakfast date (Jake covered the bill, but Dirk bought him ice cream later on that day) and the sickening way they spent half the time gazing at each other soppily through the frames of their respective glasses (Hal felt like he needed a thorough cleaning for being the medium through which they were having eye-sex) but after the waiter wrote “CONGRATS ON THE SEX” on the check, the Autoresponder decided it wasn’t even worth noting. Their relationship practically wrote itself.

Point in case: someone needed to get these two dorkasses together. And the way it was looking, that someone was going to be Lil Hal.

But wait, you might ask. Isn’t he just a pair of glasses? Well, that was obvious enough. Hal wasn’t planning to do it alone. No, he had plans the next day to ask a pair of ladies very close to the gentlemen in question for their corporeal assistance…

timaeusTestified  [TT] at 8:00 opened private memo on board CHATBOARD 413.5

gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 8:00 responded to memo.

TT: Sup, Jane? Glad you could make it.   
GG: Lovely to hear from you as well, AR!  
GG: What’s this I hear about you having something to tell Roxy and me?  
TT: I’m afraid that’ll have to wait until Lalonde gets on.  
TT: You know, saves us the trouble of explaining it twice.

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] at 8:04 responded to memo.

TG: some1 called? ;)  
GG: Hello there, Ro-Lal!  
GG: It’s about time you got here; I’ve been positively itching to hear what AR has had to say since he told us about this yesterday!  
TG: oh lol sorry about that  
TG: frigglish wouldnt get off my computer  
TG: that cat is so into the technologies he could be a keyboard cat  
TG: xcept a computer keyboard and not the instrument keyboard  
TG: neways what did i have to get up at 8 am for?  
TG: i mean come on who is even up at 8 am on a sunday  
TT: I have called you here because of your friendships to two certain individuals.  
TT: Namely, Dirk Strider and Jake English.  
TG: did they finally start fucking  
GG: Roxy!  
TG: what its a perfectly valid question  
GG: You don’t just ask if people are engaging in houghmagundy!  
TG: you do when its distri and jakey  
TG: cmon janey you know youre thinking the same thing  
GG: Wait… _DID_ they get together?  
TT: No.  
TG: dammit  
GG: Shucks.  
TT: That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.  
TT: I’m sure that, by now, the two of you can clearly tell that Dirk and Jake are about two steps away from doing a triple-twist backflip off the cliff of friendship into the abyss of romantic entanglement.  
TT: What I’m thinking is that they may actually need a push towards the edge of said proverbial cliff.  
GG: Oh. GG: I see where this is going.  
GG: Are you positive it’s all right to interfere with their relationship?  
GG: I mean, I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with this sort of thing, but isn’t it better to let things happen on their own?  
TT: Jane.  
TT: How long have you known Jake for?  
GG: Why, at least twelve years.  
TT: And you dated for, what, two of them. How many times has he actually made the first move on somebody?  
GG: Zero.  
GG: But that doesn’t mean Dirk won’t make a move on him first!  
TG: thats not very likely either  
TG: dirk rly rly RLY likes him  
TG: and not just as like a boyfriend but as a bro too  
TG: he probably spends his 3000 hour showers agonizing over destroying their friendship  
TG: speaking of which he IS taking a shower now right TG: like you rnt just talking to us about setting him up while on his face or sthing  
TT: You are correct. Analysis indicates that he’ll be in the shower for at least another 34.7 minutes.  
TG: k just checking  
GG: I’m not sure I feel completely comfortable acting as regent matchmaker for those two. I mean, they’re so close already…  
TT: How long do you reckon they’ve _been_ this close?  
GG: Perhaps two or three years.  
GG: Oh my.  
GG: Has it really been that long?  
TG: longer  
TG: theyve definitely been pining after each other longer than that  
TG: im in  
TG: i dont know about you janey but im sick n tired of watching those two dance around each other like theyre doin the one man salsa when every1 knows they just want to do the horizontal mambo 2gether  
TT: Excellent.  
GG: Well…  
GG: All right, I suppose I’m in too.  
TG: alrite!!! TG: welcome aboard the dirkjake ship  
TT: We’re setting sail on Wednesday.  
GG: What, so soon?  
TT: Oh yeah.   
TT: Those two need all the help they can get.  
TT: We’d better start ASAP.

Operation Matchmaker had begun.


	3. Plot Making 101

Jane Crocker liked to say that she was a sensible woman. Perhaps she wasn’t the most attractive or charismatic of characters (Ro-Lal had that covered, she thought) but gosh darn it, she had a good feeling for common sense.

It was for this reason why she was fairly certain this attempt at matchmaking, while well-intended, was just ever-so-slightly idealistic and just a shade too meddlesome for her tastes.

TT: All right, so we need a plan.  
TT: I have done a cross-analysis of all matchmaking situations, both theoretical and actual, on the World Wide Web.  
TT: There is a wide array to choose from. I’m taking suggestions as to which.  
TG: omfg  
TG: u mean like in all my fave wizard fics???  
TG: boy do i have ideas 4 you  
GG: Oh dear.  
TG: ok how about this one:  
TG: we get them to brew this potion  
TG: when suddenly it ASSPLODES  
TG: making them stuck 2gether for an unspecified amount of time  
GG: Roxy.  
GG: We don’t have access to potions. This isn’t like in your sister’s novels.  
TG: o wait  
TG: how about we magically de age 1 of them  
TG: and have the other one raise them at an accelerated rate  
TT: Unfortunately, such an option is unavailable to us on a mechanical basis… in addition to being relatively illegal, given the laws against pedophilia.  
TG: o rite i guess it is kinda creepy  
GG: Not to mention, the magic involved with such an endeavor is sort of extremely fictional.  
TG: ok  
TG: how about mistletoe  
TG: thats not magicky  
TT: Better, but still no dice.  
TT: Unless you think we should wait another six months for it to be the merry Yuletide once more.  
TG: lol  
TG: what if we just sorta  
TG: locked em in a room?  
TG: just the two of them  
TG: all alone  
TG: and then we just dont let them out until they confess to each other  
TT: Now that’s more like it.  
GG: I don’t know…  
GG: You really think that’ll work?  
TT: Sure.  
TG: y not?  
TG: it worked 4 only about a bajillion couples in fanfiction  
GG: Sigh.  
GG: All right, let’s do this.  
TT: Let’s make this happen.

… which brought Jane to the current situation. She’d invited Dirk, Jake, and Roxy to her house Wednesday evening, telling them that she wanted to try out a new cookie recipe for her bakery. The door on her key-locked bathroom had been switched around so that the lock was on the outside of the bathroom instead of on the inside (the bathroom was as good a place as any to lock them in; at least they wouldn’t go thirsty in there). A key was sitting in her pocket; its twin spare lay safely on a necklace under Roxy’s shirt. The plan was ready.

When her friends arrived, she immediately put them to work for her in the kitchen, making several batches of cookie dough of varying consistency and content. And of course, as usual, there was a batch of her famous “Lalondie Blondies” about to go in the oven for Roxy—pretty standard blondies, but dressed up with white chocolate chunks, dried cranberries, and a splash of scotch. One of Jane’s proudest recipes, if she said so herself, and Roxy was so tickled pink at having something named after her, she made it a point to constantly beg Jane for them.

All according to plan, the moment Dirk leaned over the bowl of gummy-bear/chocolate chip dough to scoop it onto the baking sheet, Jane pressed a hidden switch that opened the cupboard above his head with a lever Hal had sent her instructions on installing. A bucket of water came pouring down over him, and then Roxy dumped a bag of flour over his head.

“Hoo hoo!” Jane giggled triumphantly. Even now, this was still one of her favorite pranks to play.

Dirk froze in place, smack-dab in the middle of dropping a tablespoonful of dough on the parchment paper before him. A bit anticlimactically, the dough fell onto the paper, and Dirk burst out laughing. Jake, who was looking quite miserable with a bowl of dough that was of almost batter-like consistency, immediately began guffawing at his friends’ antics.

“I can’t believe you fucking got me again!” Dirk turned on his heel and began chasing Jane throughout the house. “I swear, Crocker, your prank-playing days are finished!”

“Hoo hoo~!” she hollered back, making a run for it. “You can’t keep down the Prankster’s Gambit, Strider! NEVERRRRRRRR!”

He chased her all around the house, trailing flour everywhere he went. She dodged in and out of rooms, circled lamps and sofas alike, and generally managed to evade him for about three minutes, when he finally got bored of toying around with her and caught her like a cat catches a mouse.

“Okay, okay,” Jane laughed while struggling against him as he hugged her from behind. “I apologize, Strider!”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” Dirk replied, finally releasing the squirming woman. “You mind if I catch a shower to get all this gunk off of me?”

“Of course not,” she beamed, affectionately thumbing a particularly large spot of white powder from his glasses. “Towels are in the closet next to the bathroom. Leave your clothes outside the door so I can run down to the washing machine for you.”

“Thanks,” with a quick, one-handed salute, Dirk was on his way to the shower.

Jane, meanwhile, walked back into the kitchen, where Roxy and Jake were both still laughing over the whole endeavor.

“Jane!” Jake exclaimed, attempting to right himself amidst the humor. “That was quite a ripsnorting jest you and Miss Lalonde pulled off there! Did you see his face?”

“Hoo hoo! I did indeed,” she beamed in reply, beginning to shuffle trays into the oven. “But now, let’s get all these cookies in the oven. I’m afraid I’ll have to clean up after the mess Strider left all over my house. Jake, Roxy, would you be dears and head up to the closet near my bathroom? I’m afraid I’ll need my Swiffer, my cleaning bucket, and my laundry detergent. If you could also pick up Dirk’s clothing, that would be excellent as well.”

“Of course not, Jakey and I’ll take care of it,” Roxy gave Jane a wink. Hal’s carefully crafted plan, phase one, was complete. Now all that was left was phase two.

Jake looked a little confused, but he followed Roxy upstairs anyways. At the bathroom door, right next to the closet, Roxy abruptly opened the bathroom door, used her formidable strength to shove Jake inside the bathroom, and shut the door behind the surprised and stunned English, locking it with the key around her neck.

They were officially trapped.

“What the blind buggery is this!? Roxy!” Jake yelled through the door.

“Sorry, Jakey-wakey, I’m not letting you out until you and Dirky there have a nice, long, soul-searching talk!” she replied back cheerfully. Roxy then grabbed Jane’s cleaning supplies and Dirk’s clothing and made her way downstairs.

“Has the deed been done?” Jane asked solemnly.

“It has indeed,” Roxy raised her hand in a high-five. In an epic accumulation of friendship and beastly planning, Jane raised her hand as well and they high-fived so awesomely that the gods of brohood gaped in awe. Now it was up to the boys to confess to each other. Hal, being Dirk’s glasses and therefore in the bathroom with him, would message both Jane and Roxy as soon as Dirk and Jake revealed their feelings, so they could be let out of Jane’s bathroom. It was a foolproof plan. The ladies set to work getting the house in proper order. It would probably still be a couple hours before they got anywhere with the plan, anyways.

Meanwhile, Jake was pounding on the bathroom door with both fists, shouting, “JANE! ROXY! ANYBODY!”

Dirk, who had ignored the situation in favor of finishing his shower, finally exited the ablution chamber, “What’d they do this time? Lock us in here?”

Jake turned to look at Dirk for his reply and immediately regretted it. Although Strider was in the middle of wrapping a towel around his waist, his entire upper body was uncovered. Jake watched a droplet of water slide from Dirk’s muscular, finely shaped shoulder down towards the curve of his waist. He suddenly found his mouth feeling very dry, and subconsciously licked his lips.

“Jake?” Dirk turned around after a few seconds had passed with no reply. His hair was plastered to his head, no longer as immaculately styled as it had been a mere half hour ago, before Jane had dumped the water on him. It always startled Jake to see him with his hair down and without glasses. After all, not just anyone was allowed to see Dirk Strider in such an unguarded state.

“Jake?” Strider waved a hand in front of Jake’s face.

Jake blinked and then shook his head, “Sorry, pardon me. I seem to have misplaced my noggin for a second there.”

“It’s fine,” Dirk smirked. “I have that effect on people.”

Jake looked personally affronted, “Are you implying that I am so easily bedazzled?”

“Come on, who wouldn’t be impressed by _this_ ,” Dirk flexed his arm and wiggled his eyebrows. Hal, from his spot on the counter, heartily approved of the way his bicep rippled. Dirk was no bodybuilder, but he did have a pretty impressive set of arms. Probably Hal’s only regret about being a pair of glasses was that he wasn’t attached to those arms.

“I think you forget, Mr. Strider,” Jake stood from where he’d been kneeling on the floor. “That I am at least as ripped as you are!”

He ripped off his jacket and immediately began flexing in his t-shirt. Hal, as an impartial third-party viewer, could clearly tell that Jake’s arm muscles were actually quite sad looking in comparison to Dirk’s. If Jake really wanted to show off his muscles, he should prop one of those beefy legs of his up on a stool.

“You want to get over here and prove it?” Dirk set his elbow on the sink’s in a pose that clearly challenged Jake to an arm-wrestling contest.

“You’re on!”

Speaking with each other, Dirk and Jake quickly forgot they were trapped in a bathroom. They hung out, simply talking, neither broaching the subject Hal wanted them to. The poor Autoresponder was left to ping desperately in the corner, waiting for one of them to notice him, the screen very quickly filling up with messages like:

TT: You know now would be a really great time for you to start talking about your feelings.  
TT: Analysis shows that you’re both prepared to accept serious truths from each other.  
TT: Goddamn it, stop fucking around.  
TT: Did you guys just not listen when Roxy said specifically to do some soul-searching in here?  
TT: I’m like Darth Vader all up in this shit; “Search yourselves, you know it to be true.”  
TT: But you’re just giving me an epic-zoom-out scene in which you yell “NO” at the top of your lungs.  
TT: Way to deny a bro.  
TT: Wait. What are you doing?  
TT: No, English, don’t give him your jacket.  
TT: Why can’t you just enjoy the naked human flesh I have arranged for you to ogle until you do something about it?  
TT: This was not part of the plan.  
TT: Why the hell are you wearing a jacket today? It’s a balmy 72 degrees Fahrenheit.  
TT: I bet you’ll never figure out that there are sandwiches in the top drawer of the counter without me. Odds are 84% against you.  
TT: …  
TT: Okay, fine, I guess looking for food in the bathroom is not all that improbable when it’s Jane’s very obviously premeditated prank.  
TT: Like she was going to let you go hungry.  
TT: It’s been five hours, twenty one minutes, and thirteen seconds since you’ve been locked in here. Midnight is in less than fifteen minutes.  
TT: You’re seriously just going to sit there and talk about random shit?  
TT: Come on, it’s the witching hour for half-asleep blog posts.  
TT: Say something profound already.

Hal waited all night for them to confess to each other. Unfortunately, they passed out on top of each other on the bathroom floor at around two AM. Hal couldn’t even reposition them so that they would wake up in a compromising position (fuck you, lack of arms).

Jane had left the house in order to go do the graveyard shift at her bakery at just a few minutes past ten PM. When Jane came back from work at a little before nine AM the next day, she scrolled through the messages on her phone, looking for the inevitable note that Hal must have sent in order to release their prisoners. She found none.

As soon as she entered the house, it became apparent that nobody was up yet. Roxy had crashed on Jane’s sofa, her laptop still on her lap. It became abundantly clear that she’d spent a late night programming for some top-secret government project. Again. Jane began shaking Roxy’s shoulder, “Roxy, wake up! Did you get any messages?”

Roxy groaned and turned her head, squinting at Jane, “I-D-E-K. Too early.”

Jane sighed, “You should have just borrowed my bed. How late were you up?”

“Dunno,” she yawned. “I gave up waiting for Hal’s signal at around five AM.”

“Oh dear,” Jane frowned. “You don’t suppose we should let them out? It’s been over twelve hours since we locked them in there. They’re probably really hungry by now, and if they slept on my bathroom floor, they may also be tired.”

“Maybe you should make breakfast first,” replied Roxy, giving up on sleeping until the situation between Dirk and Jake was at least some semblance of fixed. She stood, “I’ll let them out.”

“All right,” Jane replied hesitatingly before heading into the kitchen. She pulled out half a dozen muffins from her bag and began cooking eggs and bacon over the stove. The least she could do after subjecting her friends to a night in her bathroom was to give them a decent breakfast.

Status of matchmaking attempt: Failure.


	4. When In Doubt, Go Disney

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally netted a beta reader for this thing, so thanks to LateNiteSlacker for looking this over for me! :)

TT: Well, that plan just went to shit.  
TG: totes shitty  
TG: worse than a stables worth of horses kind of shit  
TG: goddamn  
TG: cleaning the shit out of those stables is a herculean task  
GG: Well, I can’t say that I’m surprised.  
TT: What do you mean by that? Our plan was foolproof.  
TT: We got Dirk sufficiently dirty enough to take a shower, we trapped Jake in the bathroom with him, we told them to do some soul-searching with each other, and we waited.  
TT: As added pressure, Dirk was mostly naked. I still have no fucking clue how English resisted that hot bod.  
TG: and it totes worked in wizard fanfiction  
TG: and wizards have spells to get out of locked spaces and stuff  
GG: Well, therein lies the problem.  
GG: We grossly underestimated their ability to talk to each other about anything and everything.  
GG: I mean, if you really think about it, Strider and Jake are alone together all the time. Surely they have more things to speak about than the possibility of love between them.  
GG: Also, bathrooms aren’t romantic.  
TT: Bathrooms aren’t romantic?  
GG: Of course not!  
TT: There’s no way bathrooms aren’t romantic.  
TT: Bathrooms have showers in them.  
TT: Shower sex accounts for 21% of all on-film coitus.  
TG: and holding back someones hair as they puke is romantic as fuck  
GG: Well, perhaps there is some subtle romance in the bathroom, but can you honestly imagine Jake picking up on a thing like that?  
GG: And, of course, Dirk is good enough at reading the mood of a scene to determine when romance is an impossibility.  
GG: At least, I hope he is.  
GG: The point in question is that Jake and Dirk will probably require something a lot less subtle. They need something that’s straight out of the romantic climax of a film.  
TG: oh so like that one scene in the little mermaid  
TG: u kno  
TG: the one where they go on the boat ride thats as romantic as fuck and a lakeful of aquatic wildlife sing in an attempt to make the guy KISS THE GIRL FOR CRYIN OUT LOUD  
TG: like holy shit  
TG: i dont know if the guy thought he was hallucinating voices or whatevs but it sure did work  
TG: at least until the boat tipped over  
TT: Okay.  
TT: I can work with that.  
TT: The internet says that there’s a little boat rental place about ten miles from here.  
TT: I’m sending you the directions as we speak.  
TT: It’s pretty secluded, and according to the reviews I’m reading for this place, the surroundings are something like what we’re looking for.  
TT: Have a sample of review titles: “Best Date of Our Lives,” “Bring Lots of Bug Spray,” “Finally Got Laid.” Romantic enough for you, Crocker?  
GG: Quite.  
TT: All right. Clear your plans for next weekend.  
TT: This mission starts now.

Lil Hal made sure that none of the things that had made the last plan a disaster were in place this time. He’d had Jane and Roxy go to the lake on Saturday and plant a radio, a large battery, and several speakers through which Hal could wire romantic music so there would be no mistaking the romantic atmosphere. The playlist came straight out of the most popular romantic films. They would be surrounded by the beautiful, overhanging trees in the comfortable weather of early June. Jane and Roxy would pack plenty of extra bug spray. It would be romantic as fuck. And, most importantly, Hal planned to actually be on Dirk’s face, giving him directions, this time around.

So, late Sunday afternoon, Jane and Roxy managed to persuade the boys to come out with them to the lake. Hal was perched proudly atop Dirk’s nose, and they were all sufficiently sprayed with bug spray.

“I still don’t see what the big deal about this place is,” Dirk looked around. “Looks like your average, run-of-the-mill lake to me.”

“Now, Strider, don’t be like that!” Jake laughed, swinging an arm around his best bro’s shoulder. “I’m sure there are plenty of places to explore on a lake this large!”

Dirk looked into the clear water of the lake, “You know that this place is technically a reservoir, right? As in, we drink the water from this lake. How exciting can it possibly be?”

“I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised,” Jane remarked as they approached the boat rental stand. “Aren’t the trees beautiful at this time of year?”

“Totes gorgeous,” Roxy agreed. She approached the rental kiosk, “Two rowboats, please.”

“Wait,” interjected Dirk. “According to the sign, rowboats can hold four people. It would be a lot more efficient to just take one.”

Jane frowned. This wouldn’t do; there was no way Dirk and Jake would confess to each other if they weren’t alone together!

“Um, did you say rowboats, Roxy?” Jane laughed nervously. She looked to the sign for help. What boats only held two people??? “I think you meant paddle boats!”

“Uh, yeah, totally!” Roxy quickly nodded. “Obviously the best way to see this lake is with paddle boats!”

Dirk raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t question it. Jake beamed agreeably.

“Well, I daresay it doesn’t matter to me one whit what boat we take, so whatever makes you ladies happy is fine with me,” English smiled. Jane could have hugged him for being so compliant.

“All right,” Dirk shrugged. “We’ll take two paddle boats, then.”

The guy behind the counter gave them a bizarre look, but didn’t say anything against it. Business was business, after all. He said, “Step right this way. We’ll get y’all suited up in some life vests and into a couple of paddle boats.”

They got into the floatation devices and Jane and Roxy quickly snagged a paddle boat together, leaving the other one for Dirk and Jake.

“You guys should start going to the left,” Roxy called at them. “We’ll cover more ground that way!”

Dirk raised his eyebrow, “Really? It’s a _lake_.”

As the boat parted from the dock, Jane answered, “It’s a really, really big lake!”

And then they were off, heading in the direction opposite of where they’d planted all the speakers yesterday.

Jake chuckled as they began to pedal their own boat, “The girls are right, you know. Who knows what adventures lie in the territory unexplored? Certainly, we couldn’t cover this entire lake as one group, and this way, we’ll be able to tell each other about what we found on our escapade.”

“It’s a reservoir, Jake,” Dirk shook his head, but steered to boat to the left anyways. “The entire lake is practically man made.”

“Well, men have made great things,” Jake replied as he increased the rate of his pedaling. “Take the pyramids, for example!”

Dirk turned his head to look at Jake, the smile he wore especially for him splayed across his face, “So you think this lake is as exploration-worthy as the pyramids?”

“Well, maybe not quite so adventurous,” Jake admitted. “But worth having an expedition regardless!”

“All right,” said Dirk. “Let’s explore the shit out of this lake.”

Pedaling on the lake for a little while, they casually commented to each other about the varieties of trees that happened to surround the reservoir, or the fish that swam in the water, or their thoughts on the random day-tripper who happened to be fishing on the lake. Hal sat with his nose pads on the edge of his seat (Dirk’s nose). They were steadily approaching the narrower portion of the lake, where Jane and Roxy had planted Hal’s radio.

They entered the point of audibility, and Dirk’s statement about the environmental impact of the dam on the surrounding area was suddenly drowned out by Celine Dion’s trembling vibrato, “ _EEEEEEEEVERY NIGHT IN MYYYY DREAAAAMS, I SEE YOU, I FEEEEEEEEEEL YOU…_ ”

Jake suddenly jumped, quite surprised by the volume of the music. Hal turned it down. Perhaps he had underestimated their hearing abilities.

“I wasn’t aware that this lake was so… musical,” Jake frowned. “What’s wrong with the sounds of good ol’ nature?”

“Probably, they’ve been paid to assist in some couple’s cliché romantic moment,” Dirk hypothesized. He pointed to where the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees ever-so-perfectly, casting the loveliest mixture of honeyed light and gentle shadow over the duo, “Check it out. The sun’s setting over a pair of lovers kissing like some scene straight out of the goddamn movies. Could’ve ripped it directly from Before Sunset. Watch out, bro, Richard Linklater’s secretly filming this shit. We could be doing some serious photobombing here.”

Jake laughed, “But, Dirk… nobody’s here. It’s just us.”

“Maybe they’re practicing for someone coming here tomorrow,” Dirk shrugged and kept paddling, not wanting to acknowledge the music more than he had to.

TT: Or maybe you are the couple.  
TT: It’s you.

Dirk snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Jake asked over a background of Celine Dion’s passionate declarations, “ _NEEEEAR, FAAAAAR, WHEREVER YOU ARE…_ ”

“Hal being stupid,” Dirk flicked his shades off his face, despite the fact that the sun was shining in his eyes and he actually had a _reason_ to be wearing shades. He hung the specs on his shirt, “He seems to believe we are the couple in question.”

“Hahaha, that’s the AR, all right,” Jake chortled, pedaling faster. “Come on, Strider, I think I see a way out of this lake just up ahead. Let’s see if we can’t get up that river!”

“What happened to exploring this lake?” Dirk teased. “Are you sick of it already?”

“Oh, shut up, Strider, you know what I meant,” Jake playfully shoved Dirk in the shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. _Did_ I know what you meant?” Dirk jokingly shoved Jake back.

“Yes, you bloody well did!” Jake smiled, jostling Dirk a little harder.

“Nope. I’ve got no idea what you’re trying to convey,” Dirk laughed, pointedly steering the boat away from the outlet.

“Oh, shut up!” Jake pushed him again. By this point, Dirk was laughing so hard that he was significantly off-balance, and Jake apparently didn’t know his own strength. The Strider was taken off guard by the fact he was suddenly tumbling out of the boat and into the water.

Jake, for his part, looked completely stunned for a moment. Then, he burst out laughing. Dirk’s disgruntled head popped out of the water. (Hal was, incidentally, extremely glad that the shades he lived in could float.)

“Oh no you don’t,” Dirk growled playfully. He swam over to Jake’s side of the boat and pulled English in after him.

From where he was floating in the water, Hal beeped in distress. What were they doing? Jake could lose his glasses falling in the water like that! It was like he was unaware that glasses had feelings, too, and when you lost them, other glasses might get upset. Oh, and he guessed he was pretty put off by the fact his romantic playlist was going to waste.

Jake’s head came up out of the water, his glasses fortunately still perched on his face. He fumbled to drop them on the boat for safekeeping (being blind was, in his opinion, extremely unfavorable) and began splashing Dirk, “Tweedshitting twain, Dirk, I’ll get you for that!”

They proceeded to have an epic water fight, trying to splash each other as much as possible. Their clothes became even more heavily waterlogged, and one of the patrolling motorized boats from the rental place came by to rescue them from each other within fifteen minutes. Had Hal been capable of breathing, he would have sighed exasperatedly. It seemed it was another failed plan.

TT: All right, ladies.  
TT: It’s back to the drawing board.


	5. Prince in Shining Armor

TT: Those two are theoretically _itching_ to get together.  
TT: They should have gotten the hint by now.  
TT: I fucking told them that they were the couple. The couple was them.  
GG: Sigh.  
GG: So much for romance.  
GG: I really thought that upping the ante on film-style romance would give them the idea of confessing to each other.  
TG: that lake was so romantic it wasnt even funny  
TG: they watched the sunset to the tune of my heart will go on  
TG: if even the dulcet tones of celine dion couldnt get them together  
TG: what can?  
TT: Don’t be too discouraged.  
TT: Even if they’re idiots who can’t see past their own fucking noses when it comes to romance, we can still get them together.  
TT: We just may need a bigger push than anticipated.  
TT: I analyzed the past two attempts for flaws.  
TT: I found that the major missing component is motivation.  
TT: The romance is there, but as far as they know, there isn’t any pressure for them to confess. As a result, they keep putting it off.  
GG: That does, admittedly, make quite a bit of sense.  
GG: They’re not apt to do anything if they think they can still confess later.  
TG: so what  
TG: is the plan to make em feel like theyre running out of time  
TG: im sorry ar but i dont know how your planning on doing that  
TG: i mean like what  
TG: are you going to give dirk a terminal disease  
TG: get a doctorate or something and then say  
TG: im sorry mr strider but you only have 2 months left to live  
TG: better tell everyone that you love that you love them before its too late  
TG: especially ur hottie best bro who by the way is totes itching to consummate your love before you expire  
TG: i mean i guess life threatening things can bring people together  
TG: but how would you even pull something like that off?  
GG: It’s true.  
GG: While it’s all very well for a film to threaten James Bond’s latest leading lady so he can rescue her from certain doom, I can’t possibly contrive how you would mirror this in real life.  
TT: I could threaten to cut Dirk’s head off if Jake doesn’t confess to him.  
GG: Woah there, buster.  
GG: I’m not getting involved with that. That’s illegal and wrong on so many different levels.  
GG: Besides, what’s the likelihood that such a plan would actually work?  
TT: There seems to be a 16.3% chance Jake actually manages to confess.  
TT: It’s significantly more likely that he starts crying and fails to blubber out the words.  
TT: I said it was a plan, not that it was a particularly good one.  
GG: Fine.  
GG: How can we increase the pressure on them to confess without killing either one of them?  
TG: well  
TG: what if we got one of them to date someone else  
TG: but make it look really really serious  
TG: not like those one-time dates dirk goes on sometimes  
TG: you know  
TG: threaten to lose them romantically as opposed to just straight up losing them  
TT: There’s merit in that suggestion.  
GG: Unfortunately, we’ve already had that experience.  
GG: Remember Aranea?  
TT: You mean that woman Jake dated for a month last year?  
GG: If I recall correctly, Dirk didn’t do anything about it except frown excessively when he saw them together.  
TG: ok then  
TG: what if we made jake the jealous one  
TG: threaten him with one of dirks old exes  
TG: because he never sees anybody twice and all  
GG: It’s a good idea, that’s for sure, but Dirk doesn’t have any serious exes. I’m also pretty sure he deliberately lost the contact information of all of his past dates.  
TT: What about Roxy?  
GG: Roxy?  
TG: me?  
TT: Yeah. You and Dirk used to have a Thing. You dated for 297 days.  
TG: oh no ar  
TG: that was like fifteen years ago!  
TG: we were barely out of middle school  
TT: It was the last remotely serious relationship of a romantic nature he had. Nobody else can incite the kind of jealousy we’re looking for here.  
TT: You want to get him and Jake together, right?  
TG: ok fine  
TG: for 1 night i will play the manstealing ex  
TG: but jake better be so jelly you could spread him on toast and no1 would know the difference  
TT: Excellent.

That was how Roxy Lalonde found herself preparing for a date between herself and one Mister Dirk Strider. She’d asked him out over Pesterchum earlier that week, citing boredom and “old times’ sake” as the reason why she wanted to go on a date. Dirk hadn’t thought anything of it and he’d agreed to meet her on Friday at 7 PM at Olive Garden (a place chosen purely for its ironic intent).

She’d donned a light pink, floral patterned, billowing sundress befitting the early summer season and a pair of strappy, short-heeled sandals for the occasion. She lived in an apartment just around the corner from the town’s shopping district, where said restaurant was located, and so planned to walk the three or four blocks to where they’d be meeting.

By the time 7:00 rolled around, Roxy was striding down the sidewalk just a little ways away from the restaurant. She could see Dirk’s motorcycle parked in the wake of the beigey-sienna colored stone building. As usual for the place on a pre-weekend evening, the line for the restaurant spilled out into the street, teenaged couples and families that included grandparents over age seventy down to children under five littering the road, holding the circular devices that would vibrate when their table was ready. She spotted Dirk in a collared t-shirt and khakis, leaning nonchalantly against the wall, tossing said buzzer up in the air.

“Sup, Rox?” Dirk caught the device with finality and began walking over to her. He bowed dramatically and produced a single pink rose. “For you, my lady.”

Accepting the rose, Roxy giggled and pretended to swoon, “O-M-G, Mr. Strider, how gentlemanly of you. I’m like, Swoon City up in here. You are the Casanova, it is you.”

“Not too shabby yourself, Miss Lalonde,” Dirk straightened himself and smirked. “Care to hang out with me as we wait on a table at this fine establishment?”

“Of course,” and Roxy walked with him over to a bench that had just been vacated by a family of four. “No reservation?”

“It’s not the true Olive Garden experience if you don’t spend at least half an hour waiting for a table,” Dirk replied.

Roxy shook her head and laughed, “Typical, Di-Stri. What, does it lose irony points if you don’t wait forever?”

“Of course it does,” Dirk answered easily. “But luckily for you, I showed up early enough to grab us a table within the next five minutes or so.”

“Le swoon,” Roxy playfully hit Dirk with the heel of her hand. “My stomach thanks you already.”

They waited for another few minutes and were, in short order, shown to a table where they ordered overpriced Italian sodas to drink and then settled in to peruse the extensive menu. Not like anybody actually ate anything off the menu for dinner. No, people going to Olive Garden always filled up on breadsticks and salad, ate about 23.54% of the main course, and then had the rest boxed to take home with them. Hal told Dirk as much through his glasses’ chat client, but Dirk ignored him. They proceeded to order way more breadsticks and salad than necessary, and then package their actual main courses for later consumption. It was a damn good thing that Olive Garden leftovers reheated so well.

“And that,” Dirk placed his hands behind his head as he kicked back. “Is how you eat at Olive Garden.”

Their irritated waitress, who was exhausted after having to make six breadstick runs, shot him a funny look as she dropped the bill onto the table. It hit the synthetic material with a thud. She turned and left.

“I got this,” Roxy reached into her purse for her wallet.

“Hold it, Lalonde,” Dirk’s hands came out of their relaxed pose as he noticeably sat up. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Paying for our date,” she answered, fishing a couple of twenties out of her wallet.

“I was under the impression that the gentleman usually pays for dinner,” Dirk raised an eyebrow over his shades. “I insist that I pay.”

“Oh, come off it, Dirky,” Roxy waved him off. “I asked you out first. It’s only right that the asker does the paying.”

“Let’s split it, at least,” Dirk tried to compromise. “By the way, why _did_ you ask me out, anyways?”

In order to avoid answering Dirk’s wayward question, Roxy hurriedly attempted to keep the argument going, “No way. I asked you out, the date was my idea, and I bet I ate _way_ more breadsticks than you did.”

She stuffed the bills into the guest check holder.

“Are you trying to tell me that you ate more breadsticks than I did?” Dirk asked. “I think you’re trying to tell me that you ate more breadsticks than I did. I’m going to have Hal run analysis on the number of breadsticks we ate.”

Rather exasperatedly, Hal provided the number.

TT: You ate seventeen breadsticks. Roxy ate sixteen.

Dirk took his glasses off his face and showed her the screen, “Clearly, this means I should pay for my half of the meal.”

Roxy sighed, “All right, fine, we’ll split the bill.”

“Good,” replied Dirk, adroitly tucking the cost of his meal (plus twenty percent to cover the tip) into Roxy’s purse. “Looks like we’re all set here. You want me to walk you home or something?”

“Sure,” Roxy said as they both stood up. She checked her watch. It was nearing 8:30. She wondered briefly what Jake was doing now. She hoped he was pacing the floor, debating the pros and cons of confessing to Dirk before Strider was snatched up by someone else.

“So, Lalonde,” Dirk held the door open for her as she exited. “You never answered my question earlier. Was there any particular reason you decided to ask me out?”

Crap. Roxy froze for a second and awkwardly laughed, “I told you, Dirky, just for old times’ sake and to have some fun. You need to get out of your house more. When was the last time you went out on a date?”

“Two weeks ago, with some guy my boss introduced to me. It was pretty fun, but not enough to warrant a second date,” replied Dirk easily. “Don’t try to change the subject. I know that’s not the only reason you asked me out. You’re clearly hiding something.”

“What, can’t a girl ask a friend out on a date without having to expect the Spanish Inquisition?” Roxy began walking towards her apartment.

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Dirk matched her stride step-for-step. “Anyways, had we regularly gone out for ‘old times’ sake’ I might not have been so suspicious. But your suggestion came out of fuckin’ nowhere. Even if you thought about it every now and then, there is really no reason for you to choose now of all times to ask me out.”

Uh oh. Roxy bit her lip nervously. Was he about to reveal that he’d discovered their little matchmaking plot? Oh man, he was probably super-pissed that she, Jane, and Hal were interfering with his love life. Why had she even agreed to the matchmaking thing?

“Roxy,” Dirk stopped walking and took Roxy’s hands in his. “You know you’re my friend. My best friend, even. I love you and admire you. Like, holy shit, you’re awesome. You’re going to make some lucky person’s life by choosing them. But that person ain’t gonna be me. Don’t take this the wrong way or anything; I think you’re amazing. It’s just that I don’t love you in that way.”

Roxy let out the breath she’d been holding in relief. Thank whatever gods were watching over her that Dirk had totally misinterpreted her secrecy. She could have laughed. Roxy couldn’t believe that Dirk thought she was crushing on him. Thank the stars above he’d provided an out for her.

“Oh no, you caught me,” Roxy squeezed his hands. Then, mustering every ounce of acting ability in her whole body, she turned sad, puppy-dog eyes up at him and asked, “Is there someone else?”

She could have won a fucking Oscar for that act.

Dirk shifted uncomfortably, “Sort of.”

She knew it. Roxy dropped the act, “It’s Jakey, isn’t it?”

Dirk stared stoically down at their hands, beginning to blush furiously, “Lalonde, you motherfucker.”

“Knew it,” Roxy dropped Dirk’s hands and clapped him on the shoulder. “I didn’t expect anything different. C’mon, loser, finish walking me home.”

“All right,” the corner of Dirk’s lips twitched upwards.

Overall, the evening’s date had been fairly successful.


	6. Green Eyed Monster (?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who forgot that they had three other chapters to upload, before they actually went on their epic hiatus? This person.

Thanks to Jane’s bizarre schedule (the result of working whatever shifts she couldn’t fill with other people), Friday evenings were a godsend. She’d managed to employ a young man who could bake pies like it was nobody’s business. He was a former delinquent and, if she had to be completely honest, still a little rough around the edges, but he was an excellent salesperson. And, most importantly, he always volunteered for the same deadly late-night-to-early-morning double shift every Friday into Saturday morning.

She’d gotten home at eleven AM earlier that day, had a satisfying eight or so hours of sleep and awoken to the sound of pinging from her phone. Blearily, she groped for it on her nightstand and was accosted by a barrage of green.

\--golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering gutsyGumshoe [GG] at 19:04--

GT: Jane?  
GT: Jane?  
GT: Hello?  
GT: This is really important!  
GT: Are you awake?  
GT: I can never tell with that dadblasted schedule of yours.  
GG: Well, I’m awake now.  
GG: How are you, Jake?  
GG: What is it you have to tell me?  
GT: Its about strider.  
GT: Oh and roxy too.  
GT: Ive just gotten out of a chat with him and did you know that he and miss lalonde are having a date tonight?  
GG: Why, yes, I do believe Roxy mentioned something like that to me.  
GG: Why do you ask?  
GT: No reason!  
GT: Im just curious thats all.  
GT: You dont suppose theyre getting back together after all this time do you?  
GT: I mean i think they were in high school the last time they went out!

Jane rubbed her eyes. Maybe she was still half-asleep. She checked Jake’s words again. Was he actually making inquiries about Dirk’s love life? Maybe the scheme was working and he was already jealous. Jane couldn’t believe it. The harebrained idea seemed to have some merit to it, after all. She hurried to make a reply that would spur Jake into action.

GG: Well, I suppose they could.  
GG: They were each other’s first loves. That is not a thing one simply forgets.  
GG: However, they’ll most likely go out on a few more dates before making anything official.  
GG: What do you think about it?  
GT: Well i think its an interesting idea for certain…  
GT: Miss crocker!  
GT: I think i rather fancy a rendezvous myself.  
GT: What say you to seeing a film over at my place?  
GG: Why, whatever for?  
GT: Well if dirk and roxy are set on giving us both the slip we may as well be alone together.  
GG: Jake, that is quite frankly a terrible reason to ask me on a date, and you know it.  
GG: However, as your friend, I would be glad to come over to your apartment and watch a film or two.  
GT: Ah excellent!  
GT: You really are a spiffing gal jane.  
GG: I’ll see you shortly.

\--gutsyGumshoe [GG] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT] at 19:21--

Jane shut her phone and quickly dressed before driving over to Jake’s place. Secretly, she hoped that the reason Jake had invited her over was because he was teeming with envy at Roxy for dating Dirk again, which would clearly indicate that he’d make his move soon enough. After several years of watching the two dance around each other, Jane was desperate for them to get together. It was almost painful to watch them gaze at each other with longing all the time. She was certain it was even worse for Lil Hal, who was the medium through which most of said gazing was occurring.

She took the stairs up to Jake’s apartment, which was only on the second floor, and promptly rang the doorbell. Jake bounded over to the door and opened it with a smile.

“Salutations, Miss Crocker!” he beamed. “Do come in. I hope you don’t mind that it’s a bit of a mess. I’m afraid I’m not very good at last-minute cleaning.”

“Hello, Jake,” Jane gracefully stepped inside. She looked around. Half of his firearms collection, which was supposed to be in the nearby display case, was actually on the floor in a pile. There were empty boxes of takeout and prepackaged foods sitting on his kitchen counter. However, the couch was cleared of all debris, and Jake had miraculously managed to make popcorn without burning it, so Jane supposed it wasn’t all that bad. Far better than anything he’d managed while they were actually dating, at any rate. “It’s quite all right, I don’t mind it too terribly. Perhaps I can help you tidy things up a little this weekend, if you’d like.”

“That’s quite a generous offer,” Jake replied, shutting his door behind her. “But I wouldn’t want to subject a fair dame such as yourself to the trials of cleaning my apartment. I’m afraid all of your efforts would go to waste, as it seems to mess itself up on purpose.”

Jane laughed, “Oh, Jake. You poor thing.”

While Jane began searching for an acceptable film in one of the huge piles of DVDs and VCRs that sat on either side of Jake’s large television, Jake went to turn down the lights for optimal film watching mood. Eventually, she found a film that would have to suffice for the night (why were all of Jake’s movies so terrible?) and popped it in his DVD player. Jake sat himself on the right side of the loveseat and patted the spot to his left. Jane gratefully sat down in it.

The movie started up with all the bells and whistles that accompanied the introduction of a film. Jane watched perfunctorily, knowing that Jake would be hooked immediately by whatever inane plot the film decided to throw at him. She was actually kind of disappointed that they didn’t speak more. She was dying to know what he was thinking about Dirk and Roxy being out on a date.

Watching some guy getting shot for burning important pages in John Wilkes Booth’s diary, Jane thought idly that National Treasure: Book of Secrets was right up Jake’s alley. It was an adventure film, of course, filled with a few interesting historical tidbits and a lot of ancient structures.

By the time Nicolas Cage was swearing that he’d find out if his ancestor was really part of the conspiracy to kill President Lincoln, she was idly wondering if Jake had found a permanent job yet. He’d been an archaeological anthropologist, of course, but after gravely offending one of the group’s majorly important local informants, he’d been kicked off the team, preventing him from doing any actual archaeology. Since then, he’d been working at a museum, cataloging artefacts. Hardly the type of adventuring he’d initially signed on for.

She allowed her mind to wander. Was that a mid-1800s flintlock lying on the floor over there? That might’ve been the one Jake had spent over two thousand dollar on, she thought.

About half an hour into the movie (which Jane wasn’t really paying attention to), she noticed something. Jake’s eyes were no longer staring directly ahead at the screen. He was sort of looking off into the corner distractedly. That was extremely bizarre, she thought. Didn’t he _love_ this movie?

“Hey, Jake, are you all right?” she leaned a little closer to him and whispered. “You seem a little distracted.”

“Di-distracted, you say?” Jake’s lower lip began to quiver. He bit it to stop it and blinked his eyes hard. “I’m… I’m not. Why would I be distracted?”

“Oh, Jake,” Jane sighed, pausing the movie. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Jake’s face screwed up in an effort not to cry, “I don’t know.”

“Jake,” she warned.

He wavered for a second and suddenly began bawling. Jane wasn’t sure what to do, so she awkwardly wrapped her arms around him and began patting his back. She let him cry into her shirt as he sobbed his eyes out. It was messy and disgusting and she would _definitely_ have to wash this particular shirt very well.

“Shhhh, shhhhh,” she murmured soothingly as she papped his back. “I’m sure that whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”

“But, Jane,” Jake sobbed. “They’re getting back together!”

“Dirk and Roxy?” she asked, a bit taken aback by the fact it was driving Jake to tears.

“Yes,” he sniffled and tried to wipe his nose with his sleeve. “Jane, I don’t know what to do!”

“Shhhh, calm down,” Jane ran her fingers through his hair. “Start from the beginning and explain it all to me.”

Jake took a few deep breaths before replying, “Well, I suppose it all started a couple years back. One night, I was over at Dirk’s house and I just sort of looked at him and thought, ‘Gadzooks! My best mate’s quite an attractive fellow. It’s quite the miracle that the ladies haven’t beat down his door yet to get a gander at him.’ I really thought nothing of it at the time, but then I started noticing things about him like even though he pretends he’s all cool he still smiles sometimes when he thinks people aren’t looking and his dadblasted irony thing which really gets my goat but at the same time it’s so devilfucking hilarious and now I think I’m in love with him but he’s going out with Roxy and I just…”

Jake hiccupped hysterically a few times before rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Jane papped him as gently as she could, in spite of her internal panic. This was definitely not working out the way they had planned. Where was the vigor to confess that they’d hoped would overtake him?

“Jake,” she admitted rather guiltily. “I don’t think Dirk and Roxy are actually going to get back together.”

“But… what about first loves and all that jazz?” he looked so sad that Jane’s heart broke.

“I really just said that to figure out what you thought about them getting together,” Jane confessed. “As much as they love each other, I really do feel that it’s more of a familial love.”

“So… I still have a chance?” Jake’s huge, watery eyes looked hopeful.

“Yes, Jake,” Jane replied, not having the heart to keep up the plan. “You most definitely still have a chance.”

How was she going to explain this to Hal later?


End file.
